Harry Potter:Raised by Wolves

"I'll write to my gran," Neville assured him. "She taught me everything I know—she can help you too. Obviously, she won't know all the specifics about the Potter family, but there's probably a book in your vault that does. Or for, uh, any of the other families. Merlin, Harry—Slytherin? That's insane! And Black, too—the House of Black is one of the oldest pureblood lines in the world! How did you end up with that one?"

"No idea," Harry said with a shrug. "I guess someone down the line named me their heir. Do you really think your gran could help?"

"She'd be honored," Neville replied. "She loves all this stuff—can't wait until I'm old enough to get more involved. And she can keep a secret, too."

Neville hesitated, as if considering something. "Harry, have you ever heard of Occlumency?"

"Can't say I have," Harry replied, turning the strange word over in his mind. "What is it?"

"It's a form of magic—pretty much every pureblood kid is taught it growing up. It protects your thoughts. See, there's this magic called Legilimency—it lets people read minds. They can get into your head, see your memories, all that. Occlumency is the defense against it. It creates shields around your mind so no one can steal your secrets."

Harry's jaw dropped. "People can read my mind?"

"Not everyone," Neville assured him quickly. "It's a really rare skill. But Dumbledore is famous for it. There are rumors that Snape is really good at it too. If you're planning to keep secrets from Dumbledore, you'll want to learn Occlumency. I'll write to Gran tomorrow and ask her to send you some books."

"Do you know it?"

"Oh yeah, I learned before I came to Hogwarts," Neville said. "Every family needs to protect its secrets. I'm not amazing at it—if someone really tried, I probably wouldn't be able to keep them out. But, well… no one's really tried. Not yet, anyway."

"But what if Dumbledore's already read my mind?" Harry asked, thinking of all the times that could have happened—at meals, during lessons… How close does someone have to be to do that?

"Legilimency needs eye contact," Neville explained. "As long as you don't look him in the eye, you should be fine."

Harry let out a sigh of relief. Don't look him in the eye. I can do that. That also explained why the book had said eye contact was a sign of trust.

"Thanks, Neville. God, there's still so much I don't know. It's gonna take forever to catch up."

"You'll get there, Harry," Neville said encouragingly, squeezing his shoulder again. Then he hesitated. "D'you mind if I, uh, go? Only I've got homework, and…"

Harry belatedly realized his privacy wards were still up and waved his wand to cancel them. He pulled his curtains aside—and froze.

Ron was sitting on his own bed, watching them with a suspicious expression. "What've you two been up to?"

Harry and Neville exchanged a quick glance.

"Studying," they said at the same time. Neville headed toward his own bed, while Ron kept his eyes on Harry for a few more seconds before letting it go.

"Whatever. Hey, Harry, d'you think Scabbers has lost more weight? It's that bloody cat of Hermione's, I swear he's got it out for him."

Scabbers lay curled up on Ron's bedspread, looking worse for wear. Harry had definitely seen him in better shape. Privately, he thought it had more to do with the rat being old than anything Crookshanks was doing, but Ron wouldn't hear a word of it.

"Just keep up with the rat tonic," Harry advised. "I'm sure he'll perk up."

Ron didn't look entirely convinced, but he didn't argue as Harry started getting ready for bed. Harry only felt guilty for excluding him for a moment. Ron wouldn't understand.

Everyone was excited for their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.

From what they'd heard around the school, Professor Lupin actually knew what he was doing—no chance of another fraud like Lockhart.

Harry hadn't properly spoken to him yet, but he still couldn't shake the strange feeling that the professor was familiar. It made something in his chest twist uncomfortably, had him squirming in his seat as he watched the man at the front of the classroom.

The feeling was momentarily forgotten when they were led to the staff room, where Lupin politely suggested that Snape vacate the area. The professor had been incredibly amused by Neville's Boggart transformation—maybe Snape had already pissed off the new staff member. Harry wouldn't put it past him.

Wand in hand, Harry braced himself to face the Boggart—only for Lupin to step in front of him.

The Boggart shifted into a floating silver orb, shining mysteriously—until Lupin turned it into a cockroach.

Harry frowned. Was that… the moon?

Why was Lupin afraid of the moon?

No one seemed to notice that Harry hadn't faced the Boggart, too busy chattering about their own vanquished fears. Harry almost said something to Lupin—almost stayed behind to demand answers—but he hesitated. Maybe I'm overthinking things. Maybe class had just been running late, and Lupin had wanted to wrap things up.

Harry kept to himself as they headed down to dinner, letting Ron and Hermione's bickering wash over him.

Professor Lupin hadn't said anything about knowing him. Hadn't mentioned seeing him before.

I'm probably imagining things.

Still… something didn't feel right. There was something about the man that Harry couldn't quite put his finger on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for choosing this novel

For advanced chapters visit:

http://ko-fi.com/abrahansmith1b

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~